Saving You, Saving Me
by FictionWriterQurl
Summary: There are things you can't change, things out of your control. A person is like the moon with many phases. Her life was changed in several single nights. RWBY High School/College AU. Without powers and abilities/although Faunus are still prominent and the world of remnant. Cover Image not by me.


So, this story is more of a High School AU. There's no powers/auras/magic and all. I will, however, keep the Faunus and World of Remnant names. It's just a regular world with the Faunus' being the only "magical" aspect about this story.

Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY or any of it's characters.

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It all started on a night, not one unlike all the others. But, this night was different…decisions were made….things happened. But, her world was all the more changed because of this. She'd often thought that the things she said and did weren't because she felt she needed to say or do them, rather, she did them without thought or concern. There was carelessness to her now, one that didn't exist months before. So different was she, that her _own_ sister couldn't recognize her; her sister who claimed to be closest to her. The stares she received now were that of surprise and with eyes that said they no longer knew her. She no longer knew herself…she was practically a stranger to herself and others who knew her.

But…they never really knew her to begin with. She hadn't especially made things easier for her father, oh no, he was different from the rest. She made sure to hurt him the most, he was the reason she hated herself—the reason why she couldn't and wouldn't let herself get close to anyone.

The biggest reason of them all? _He_ was the one that started it all. She both hated and loved him.

She regretted distancing herself from her sister, Winter. But, in end that was short-lived in her mind. She hadn't spoken to her in what seemed like years, it was only months, but in her head it felt like so much more. She closed herself off to the world, changed and did things her former self would never think of doing. It wasn't like things changed overnight, no, she started dressing differently, talking differently and then after all that, she partied…hung with the bad crowd and went anywhere where no one who was anyone like her went. It was a world full of lonely and dark souls who no one cared for...

She was exactly that.

She was old enough to understand that no one did things without meaning, yet she couldn't find herself to care beyond what was in front of her. And what was in front of her?

Her mist-like eyes focused on one particular figure on the ground amidst a crowd. A tall boy with turquoise hair and slightly tan complexion, she couldn't really see him amongst the group of people surrounding him. His shirt was torn open and hung around his hips, he sported a bloodied nose and mouth. But, he was laughing, a hand on his bloodied lip…she frowned before she refocused—or at least tried to focus on what was going on in front of her.

Fights weren't exactly rare in a place like this, but she could have sworn she'd seen the boy somewhere, recognized his hair at least. She quirked her head sideways, this was a college party and she wasn't old enough to attend one yet. But, having the right connections can get you just about anywhere. Money was a universal language after all.

The turquoise haired boy was definitely not old enough to be attending college if she thought she knew who he was. He either had to be one of Beacon's star athletes or be a doppelganger because she could swear the boy did some sort of athletic type thing at her school. He attended the same school she did—only she didn't think anyone from there even came to these types of events...least of all a private beach party where only rich kids who attended Atlas' Ivy were permissible to attend, you either had to know the host or know someone who knew the host.

"Hey." Someone with a smooth voice saddled up next to her, arm wrapping around her waist as she was slightly startled from her previous observation. _Speaking of sycophants_ , she thought with a roll of her eyes; since the moment she'd first set foot into this party this guy had been relentlessly hitting on her, touching her as though they were familiar and oddly to her it seemed more like a claim. She'd never been particularly good with people who thought they could claim or own her, she wasn't an object and she refused be anyone's anything.

She allowed it because she didn't know what she wanted or expected from this night; she did as she did on most nights since her— _transformation_. She just knew without a doubt that she craved to feel something, even if only for a moment. It was why she even attended these parties, it was always a hit or miss with her when it came to them. The boy was obviously rich and was the host of this very and dare she say it, boring party. He was older than her obviously, this was after all his party and attended Atlas Ivy.

He wasn't horrible to look at, but he had that look to him. That smugness she recognized in those who thought themselves above others, ones who believed in their own self entitlement, she couldn't stand people like him. This line of thinking was ingrained into almost all the elite families who were fed with a silver spoon. There was a way of thinking and believing, one that was severely dangerous to someone like her, who craved touch and affection and didn't believe the same.

Only, he didn't know who she was, her father hadn't exactly allowed her to be in the media or many of the social parties the elite's threw all year round—on mother's strict orders until she was old enough to take the company serious and manage it. Something she was extremely grateful now to have received at such a young age. Yes, _grateful_ to have been spared such barbaric behavior. People knew the Schnee's had three children; Winter, Weiss and Whitley. But, no one knew what they exactly looked like. Since her mother's death, Weiss decided to live with her uncle, James Ironwood, who was her father's brother.

She always thought it strange that her father took on her mother's surname, but as she grew older she could see the practicality in keeping it. It was after all a very powerful name to have attached to your own. It was also the very reason she decided to change hers temporarily from Schnee to Ironwood, since it offered anonymity, unless you looked into her family history which normal people didn't, you wouldn't be able to place her as the Schnee heiress.

She snorted, if only her mother could see her now. There was a bitterness to her now, a bitchiness that sometimes went too far. She tried at first not to be, but things always made her feel empty in the end so she stopped trying. The emptiness never went away anyways. To her it always seemed as though she were chasing for some phantom like reason or purpose, but in the end, she thought with a sigh, what was it that made her get up every morning? To keep trying?

She turned to look at the boy, _really_ looking at him and taking in his features for the first time—rich chestnut hair that was sleeked back, a smile to dazzle the crowd and strong masculine features that accentuated his sharp face. A body he clearly worked hard to achieve that she could see beneath his fitted tank top—it wasn't accidental, his choice of attire. His green eyes shown with clear interest in her direction, one she found difficult to reciprocate. He was clearly meant to seem perfect on the surface, but she could see beneath his cold eyes how calculated his touches and words were, she paused—he felt cold to her. She inwardly sighed, he wasn't what she was looking for, yet at the same time he was safe. She knew what to expect from him, knew what she could get, despite it being temporary and un-extraordinary, it would be enough for tonight, she decided. Yet, there was no real thrill for her, not here at least.

Would she allow this boy to touch her? To let him try to make her feel something more than what she felt? She seriously doubted he could even if he tried.

She took a swig of the drink he was offering her. A coppery like drink that foamed to the top; it was a standard keg filled drink that wasn't all that appealing to her. But, the icy like drink _was_ appealing to her parched throat despite its flavor.

"I didn't get your last name." His smooth voice reached her ears, hands still possessively around her waist, though they roamed and stretched across her back now.

She knew why he asked, he was gauging to see whether he had to be careful or not with her. If she was important or had any rank to her name. she would essentially be baggage he couldn't be bothered to deal with. Families like theirs expected something out of unions, fling or not, when it came down to it.

She continued to chug her drink, she didn't want him to know her last name, even her father's surname. She couldn't think clearly enough to give one so she searched with her eyes for anything that wouldn't sound like a lie.

And, sure enough she found one at the bottom of her cheap red plastic cup. _Look no further_.

"Weiss Dixie." She said without hesitation, eyes already looking for something to latch onto. She felt dizzy and little out of sorts, a slight blur came to her eyes, a side effect to all the drinks she downed earlier in a game of beer pong she thought. Though her eyebrows scrunched in contemplation, it usually took the alcohol to burn into her system a while longer than she thought…how long was it since she downed those shots?

"Dixie?" He snorted, "That's an odd last name. Can't say I ever heard of it."

"I seriously doubt that." She said under her breath, still distracted by the slight blur she kept trying to clear from her eyes.

"What was that?" He asked over the loud music.

She didn't want him to hover over the subject of her unusual surname so she thought to switch topics, particularly on the skirmish that was happening not 20 feet away.

"I asked what that was all about, the fight." She nodded over to the boy who was being pulled to his feet haphazardly by two nearly drunken football players. She didn't know why she cared enough to ask about it, just that—she couldn't understand what was even taking place in front of her.

These types of parties were like a prelude for families that only circled around the added benefits of a political marriage, a way to unwind without the social pressures of responsibilities and away from familial obligations. It's why they were allowed, but there were rules to these things…she was privy to them because her family was exactly like theirs. She was nothing more than a trophy to be used when the time was right. Only—no one here knew who she was exactly, she was just another girl who got in through someone else, no one of particular interest. She was fair game for a summer fling as far as anyone was concerned.

She heard a dark chuckle in her ear, one without humor. It sent a small chill down her spine, "Ah, that? It's just Vasilias. He's just…getting a little advice on something. No harm done, as you can see. He and I just had a little misunderstanding. Nothing to worry your pretty little head over." He said that as though hurting someone was normal, especially amidst a crowd, but it was also the eerie and dismissive way he said it. She narrowed her eyes, _did the boy even want to be here?_ she wondered as she took another glance at the turquoise haired boy who was now being dragged away by the same two boys from earlier. She didn't know where to, but she'd guess nowhere good and away from people who could see.

She looked around the room, no one else seemed to be paying attention to them and those that were laughed at him. That was odd and a little disconcerting; it was almost as if they were immune to this sort of behavior. _Was it normal behavior?_

She rubbed her aching head, something wasn't right. She didn't feel good, her hands shook when she tried to soothe her scalp, and she felt sweat coating her skin like a second layer.

"…mething wrong?" The boy asked, his arms holding her in place, as if to catch her. Then all of a sudden it felt as though she were being dragged underwater. Everything sounded as though she were below water, pressure suffocating her…she felt like she was being submerged. _Was she drowning?_

She tried to gasp for air when it didn't go away, clawing at the boys white dress shirt without a care, she felt desperate as her insides felt like they were burning.

"Weiss?!" There was alarm in the boy's voice now, it only added to her panic.

She tried to voice her plea, a desperate whine came out instead and the room spun faster than her eyes could keep up with. _Make it stop_. She clenched her eyes shut, willfully concentrating on making the room stop spinning. To focus on breathing.

"…ou breathe?" She couldn't hear his voice clearly.

She felt herself being pulled before her eyes met ceiling, her heart felt like it was ready to explode from sheer pressure, she tried clutching at her chest, where her heart lay, as if to grasp it between her hands, but her hands would not move. Her limbs felt heavy, her body wouldn't listen to anything she desired, it was as if she were inside someone else's body, willing and giving commands with a desperate fervor.

Noise died down as she was being carried away from the party, drowning out into a slight pulse. She closed her eyes, she felt tears slowly make their way out, felt the warm droplets trail down her skin. The drowning stopped, but her heart would not cease its erratic pulsing.

A moan came out of her uncooperative mouth, no words came out right despite her forming them in her head correctly. Her tongue felt heavy. There was a wave of exhaustion that took a toll on her body from the feeling of almost drowning. The room was spinning at a slower rate but nothing would particularly stay fixed.

What was happening? She felt wrong and scared. Scared for what she couldn't understand.

She felt entirely disconnected as she felt something soft and firm behind her back. She wasn't being carried anymore.

She felt someone hover over her next, a heaviness that came from having someone settling themselves over her rang a warning, but she couldn't place why it alarmed her.

Cold hands perused over her skin, she didn't like it. She tried to will her body to move, away from those cold hands. Was this the boy who was talking to her? Or was this someone else? It was too dark to see and her eyes felt heavy.

Her head ached as she tried to open her eyes.

It was dark— thick moonlight trails were the only source of light in the room. It silhouetted the person above her who was away from the moons rays; it only served to make him seem that more dangerous and daunting, she couldn't see beyond his outline.

She focused on what little she could see of the shattered moon instead of the dark figure hovering over her, touching her, _violating_ her. More tears escaped her eyes as she tried to seek comfort from the pearl like moon in the sky.

She felt like the moon looked… _shattered and broken_.

Could the moon be fixed? Why was the moon left for everyone to see its brokenness—is that what she seemed like. Cold and desolate, and so very alone. Was it broken beyond repair?

Cold and clammy lips touched her own, seeking to pry them open with his tongue. He squeezed her breast harshly, the action making her release a muffled cry of pain before he quickly drowned out the sound with his mouth. She tasted copper in her mouth, she didn't know if that was her own blood she was tasting or his.

"So beautiful." She heard him say breathily above her. His fingers combed her hair back as she felt his hot breath on her neck. She felt him wedge himself between her legs, felt his entire weight on her as he roughly yanked on his belt with one hand and then her dress. His other hand still on her breast.

There was a loud shuffle in the room before she felt his weight leave her body. She couldn't stop her tears then. Nothing felt more out of place right now than she did. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time; she couldn't even _move_ her body. Her frantic eyes searched the room for _him_.

There was another silhouette that hovered over her face, someone else was touching her, but it felt different. Their hands were shaking, breath hitching with worry.

"Are you ok?" She heard, although it cracked towards the end. It was a male's voice, lighter than the one before.

She opened her mouth, her eyes trying to see beyond the darkened room—nothing but a groan came out. Tears flooded her eyes, falling like stars beneath her lashes.

"I-It's Ok. I—he's not gonna hurt you anymore. B-but I need you tell me if you're not seriously hurt, can you move?" He said, but his hands searched her pulse, "Can you hear me?"

She willed her mouth to move and say anything of intelligence, with frustrated tears she let out a croaked cry. Why did her body refuse? It felt like utter betrayal of her body.

This boy—saved her. He was propping her body halfway with his hands, cupping her face, wiping her tears with his cold fingers, "You can't move or say anything can you?" He said with finality, as though he knew what she was experiencing. His face was so close to hers that his breath fanned her skin.

She groaned in response, as if to confirm his suspicions. She wanted nothing more than to leave and never return, possibly never to wake up. This was a _nightmare_.

She saw him nod his head several times, as though internally convincing himself of something, "We're gonna get out of here. I promise. I'll get us out somehow." He said as he momentarily left her side. He didn't sound as convinced as his words suggested.

She heard movement across the room, several scraping sounds and several minutes later she felt herself being lifted from the bed. She let out a startled cry, "Relax, I'm not gonna hurt you. You can't move and the only way out is through _that_ window, the door's not an option. They see me with you and we're both screwed."

She didn't know why it mattered if they saw her with him. But, the entire party had seen the host leave with her. It made sense now that seeing them leave together would raise questions. One's that they couldn't afford to answer; they didn't know what these people were capable of doing. Could they all have known that she was drugged? They didn't do anything when they were pummeling that boy earlier, who's to say that they turned a blind eye for her too. There was no denying that she was drugged…but the question was when had it happened?

She heard him sigh, "It's gonna be hard, since you know…you can't—" he trailed off, "I know! Piggyback style. I can try. It's better than nothing." He looked towards her for assurance, she could offer none.

"Right. Let's do this." He sat her on the edge of the bed and oddly at that moment she felt like a puppet, whose strings were cut and left without recourse. Left without a proper balance she was falling, but onto his back as he knelt with his back to her, she felt his arms grab onto her legs, securing them around his waist. He adjusted her and placed her arms around his neck, "I know you can't help me, even if you tried, but like I said, we'll make it out of here. It's just a stupid party and some stupid frat people."

She felt so grateful to this boy, who owed nothing to her. Yet, she owed everything to him at this moment. She wished she could express her gratitude, she vowed that she would after they left this place, after the drugs were out of her system.

As he made his way to the window, she could see what was beyond his shoulder. The shattered moon above dark water—ocean water; the dark of the night which expanded beyond her sight, where eyes could register stars in the sky. She could smell the ocean from this close, smell the salt and sand. The party below them was still going on, hardly anyone was outside, save for the group of people surrounded around a small bonfire several feet away from them. Though they looked to be completely messed up by the alcohol and more occupied with toasting marshmallows.

"Bunch of rich assholes." She heard the boy mutter, too bad she couldn't turn her face to see what he looked like. He chuckled as he started climbing down on the artificial vines with trellis that acted as a ladder support, "You know, I almost feel like a prince rescuing a princess in distress. I got beat up by a group of ogres, obviously henchmen for the big badass boss fight, the dragon. Who by the way—" he grunted as he carefully placed his feet on the ground, and readjusted the girl on his back, "went down with kick to the head. Not much of a dragon or fight there if you ask me."

This was a ridiculous way of looking at what happened, though for her it was different. She wished she could make light of their situation, but in her heart she knew this would change things for her. She never felt as out of control as she did this night, never felt as _violated_. She wanted out of her skin, to rip out the skin he touched, to scrub it _raw_. She closed her eyes and felt her mind wander back to cold hands and lips. Instantly her eyes watered and she felt herself begin to panic, but she concentrated on her breathing.

Once they were several blocks away from the party he said, "So, since you can't really talk and I don't think you really want me searching your dress for identification or a cell phone or whatever, I'll just head over to the police—"

Instantly she opened her eyes and started making noises, willing and wishing for him to understand that she didn't want anyone to know about this. It wouldn't be hard for the cops to search her name and have her real name pop up, to bring her back to her family—essentially humiliating her and making them treat her like she was incapable of handling herself. Back to her father, who if ever found out, would lock her in a room until she was of legal age. But, most of all—she hated when people looked at her with pity. She could handle _this_ on her own.

"Woah! Woah! You don't want me to take you there?" He said as he continued walking, his face almost twisting to look at her face. Her cheek was pressed to his shoulder, eyes downcast to the ground.

She grunted lightly, "But—they hurt you. People like that shouldn't be allowed to get away with things like that. They—he did things to you. I don't think it's gonna be easy for you to get over that. You—"he hesitated, stopping under a streetlight, the street was empty and long, vacant of all life and noise. It was tranquil despite what she felt was happening inside of her, "You do know what happened to you back there, right?" He asked slowly, as if afraid she might not be—she could and would never forget. But, to her she would crumble if she didn't take care of this herself. That seemed far more important right now, she would deal with the severity when she was emotionally and physically able.

When she didn't respond, he took this as an answer, "So, no cops. I can't get a real answer right now. But, I can take you back to my place and you can rest there cuz I kinda don't want to be outside anymore. Feeling kinda tired and my stomach hurts."

"I won't do anything." He added quickly as he hoisted her up again when she felt herself slumping slowly down his back, "Can I tell you secret? Since I don't think you feel safe right now despite what I'm saying." She didn't say anything.

Undeterred, he said, "I'm kinda gay. No—not kinda…I am gay. But, I feel like I can say this to you. And It'll make you feel better anyways. It probably doesn't mean anything to you, we're strangers but i-it is to me. I get treated differently for it." He sounded sad.

He continued walking, "You know that's why those guys beat me up at the party, they found out I was gay and started beating me up. Used to be friends with a couple of them too. So, that sucked."

Her eyes widened, he was that boy, the one with the turquoise hair, "I don't know if you saw me. But, I did see you earlier, with the guy that was—" He trailed off again, he had a habit of doing that with her. As if he was afraid of voicing it out loud lest he set off a bomb. She couldn't react even if she wanted too.

"They took my stuff too. Including my cell phone, luckily I took a cab here." That explained why he didn't try calling anyone or voiced that out earlier as an option. Too bad she left her bag back at the party, but she made it a habit never to take anything she couldn't live without to these types of parties. She learned that through trial and error, too many first parties with her belongings being stolen, with her waking up drunk and unable to recall what had happened the day before.

"You know, it feels good to say that out loud. Doesn't feel as bad as I imagined. Just, it's a pretty fucked up night, right?" He said this with a sardonic tone, "One day I'll be able to say it without feeling like I need to hide it. We're in the goddamn future for dust sakes."

He kept saying things, but she felt herself drifting away. Eyes feeling heavy from exhaustion, she closed her eyes and breathed in the night air. It was cold and crisp, relaxing her nerves as she felt warmth seep into her bones despite the night air chilling her skin. She felt so immensely grateful to this boy, grateful to his presence at the party, though she wished under better circumstances.

She wouldn't know that in the near future she would be doing him the same. Saving each other.

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Let me know what you guys think.


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